


The Spinning Wheel

by hideunspoken



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, warning:infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:47:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideunspoken/pseuds/hideunspoken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is teaching a pottery class Sebastian is taking, and things get a little more hands on than usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spinning Wheel

Kurt was admiring one young girl’s painting work when he heard a frustrated exclamation, all too familiar, from the other side of the room where students were using the pottery wheels.  
“I can’t fucking do this. It’s ridiculous.”  
Kurt let out an annoyed sigh before excusing himself and making his way over to the wheels.  
“Are you having issues?” Kurt asked in a falsely calm voice, his patience wearing extremely thin. Sebastian has been a stark opposite of a model student since day one of the nine-week course, and five weeks in, Kurt’s composure was at its breaking point. Their personal history wasn’t exactly helping matters, either, with Sebastian being inexplicably hateful to Kurt after breaking off the little friends-with-benefits deal they had going on. The fact that Kurt started actually dating someone shortly after wasn’t helpful to Sebastian’s growing mood he’d been having.  
“I’m not the one with issues,” Sebastian spit out, his clay-caked hands thrown into the air angrily. “It’s this goddamn wheel that doesn’t spin right.”  
Kurt failed at resisting the temptation to roll his eyes, adding an accompanying sigh.  
“Nothing is wrong with the wheel,” he explained, forcing a calm tone. “You don’t have the lump of clay centered, so every time you try to pre-maturely dig into it to form it into a bowl, it’s going to become even more lopsided and that’s why your sides are collapsing.”  
“Sure, it’s easy to fucking make it seem all technical, but I’m telling you, it’s not my fault.”  
Kurt released a tight sigh through his teeth, before instructing, “Pick up the clay from the wheel, roll it into a ball again, and slam it back down to the middle.” He ignores the muttered already did that five fucking times and positions himself behind Sebastian after he goes through the three steps.  
“Scoot up a little,” Kurt said, and Sebastian complied immediately, before turning back with a questioning frown that turned into a straight impassive line as he realized what Kurt was doing, swinging his leg over the little bench and settling in behind him. Kurt prodded at his shoulder lightly to get Sebastian to turn back to the wheel and he immediately got to work, grabbing the sponge from the side table, dipping it in water, and squeezing it gently over the mound of clay.  
“Okay, wrap your hands around the clay in a tight grip.”  
“Kurt,” Sebastian murmured like a warning. Against what, Kurt wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the proximity or the innuendo that Sebastian surely found in Kurt’s words.  
Kurt ignored him.  
“Grip.”  
Sebastian let out a sigh that did nothing to release the pressure from his shoulders, the tension in his back. Kurt could feel it all, pressed up against him, the scent of his cologne invading Kurt’s senses, painfully familiar, but he pushed it all away, focused on the task at hand. Sebastian’s hands wrapped around the clay loosely, and Kurt moved in to press them tighter together.  
He nudged Sebastian’s foot off the pedal and started spinning the wheel slowly, using their joined hands to mold the clay to loosely relate something round at first. Slowly, he began speeding up the wheel, steadying their hands together, a synchronistic movement to form the clay around their unmoving hands, bending it to their will.  
“See?” Kurt said, just barely a whisper into Sebastian’s ear, his attention so completely focused, but on a million different things, getting lost in them all. The mesmerizing spin of the wheel, the perfect circular shape the clay took on, the warmth radiating from in front of him, the slow slackening of Sebastian’s posture, the little agreeing hum let out from the boy that barely understood the concept of easy agreement. The air, charged between them, seemed almost tangible.  
Sebastian turned in his hold and Kurt caught sight of the little bob in Sebastian’s throat as he swallowed. Kurt tore his eyes away from the tanned skin of his neck, the little stubble there, and Kurt could still remember how it felt against his skin, under his fingertips, his lips, or pressing against the skin of his belly as Sebastian peppered kisses down his chest, on his thighs. He fixed his gaze on the clay, and pulled their hands back, bringing just a fingertip to the middle of the still spinning clay. He cleared his throat before speaking again.  
“See how my fingertip doesn’t move? No matter how fast the wheel spins, the clay is a perfectly round shape, so as long as you keep still, you can tell if the clay is perfect enough to move on to molding it into a bowl.” Kurt slid his way off of the bench as gracefully as could be done, standing stiffly, the awkwardness creeping into him and giving him the overwhelming instinct of flight, urging him to run off, and quickly.  
He was interrupted by a tentative, “Kurt?” from behind him, and he bit his tongue to stop the flow of grateful thank you’s at the student with a question.  
He moved further away from Sebastian, to the student’s work station at the painting tables, then walking into the kiln (a small room-sized oven that the finished pieces baked in to get their shiny finished quality). He was reaching across a shelf to gently pick up one of the pieces at the back when a voice startled him, and he almost knocked the piece over.  
“Hey.”  
Kurt turned to find Sebastian stepping through the doorway, fidgeting slightly, his form covering most of the opening, bringing a shadow to settle over the room.  
Kurt swallowed hard before responding. “Hey. Did you need something?” Sebastian didn’t respond, instead taking a few more steps into the room. Kurt glanced over Sebastian’s shoulder at the room behind him, but nothing was visible. The kiln was just around the corner from the main area, outside and behind a fence.  
“I miss you,” Sebastian whispered, just in front of Kurt’s face at this point, his hand rising to brush lightly at Kurt’s cheekbone, clean from clay. “I have to see you every week at this damn class you told me to take, and it’s awful and everything at the same time.”  
“Sebastian,” Kurt whispered brokenly, his voice breaking, the strengthening grip of Sebastian’s hand on his jaw holding him in place.  
“And you aren’t even mine to miss,” Sebastian continues. “You never really were and that just makes it so much worse.”  
“I’m seeing someone,” Kurt reminded. Which of them he was reminding, however, was unclear. The words rested in the air for a moment, Sebastian nodding his acknowledgement. He had just begun to loosen his hold when Kurt mimicked the movement, bringing his hand to Sebastian’s jaw, brushing it down his neck and around to tangle his fingers in Sebastian’s hair before using his hold to pull Sebastian’s face down to his, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his own upwards, slotting their lips together. His fingers shook and his heart raced in a way that was usually pleasant, but the undercurrent of wrong coursed through him in a way that would overtake him if things were anything but nearly perfect. Sebastian’s sliding hands to hips, the length of the familiar body against his, the way Sebastian’s teeth grasped his lower lip and pulled away slowly, the movement sending sparks through Kurt’s entire body. The way Sebastian released his lip for just a second, both of their eyes just barely catching each other before Kurt was surging back in, twisting them to push Sebastian against the metal racks. It was perfect and it wasn’t until the move made the racks shake against them, the worrisome sound of ceramics clanging against each other.  
Kurt pulled back and brought Sebastian with him, his automatic instinct to check the rack and make sure nothing was broken. Nothing was, and he gave a little grateful smile before his attention focused back on Sebastian, staring at him intently.  
“Well,” Sebastian drawled. “I really just came in here to talk.” He gave a small grin and Kurt’s heart plummeted to the ground. He knew, the entire time he was doing it, that he was cheating, and it was a wrong and awful thing to do to another person, but what he didn’t expect was having to do something equally as horrible just seconds after.  
Because looking in Sebastian’s eyes, there was joy and giddiness and hope that Kurt was about to take away, crush in his fingers like they are worthless.  
“I—I’m sorry,” he choked out finally, tears filling his eyes as Sebastian’s expression dimmed. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m—I’m seeing someone, and I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”  
The hurt was there, replacing any trace of happiness of Sebastian’s face, but only for a second, maybe two, before he twisted his expression into an uncaring mask, so cold that Kurt could almost feel it. Sebastian nodded once, turning so smoothly he could almost be mistaken as serene if Kurt didn’t know. If he didn’t know how much this must have affected Sebastian for him to be so open in his emotions for just a minute, Kurt would’ve been blissfully ignorant.  
But he wasn’t.  
Sebastian was walking away from him and Kurt broke, every will he had being mustered up to keep himself together.  
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, the words on a repeating track in his head, nothing else seeming to fit.  
“I heard you,” Sebastian murmured, careful, composed, and walking away from him now.  
Kurt gave himself a full minute, getting himself back together after the pain and hurt and guilt threatened take him over. He counted his breaths, calmed his heartbeat, and finally felt prepared to step out of the kiln and walk back into the room, the piece he’d been retrieving long forgotten. Sebastian was, predictably, already gone, his perfectly circular mound of clay still sitting at his wheel, waiting to be molded and crafted into a piece of art.  
Kurt allowed himself a small sniff before circulating around the students, offering advice, and focusing all his attention on avoiding the abandoned wheel, because the work would remained unfinished. Sebastian had left and he never came back.


End file.
